A slightly odd mission
by AnadoraBlack
Summary: Was supposed to be a one-shot, but ended being very much longer. Written in one go, enjoy it as much as you can. Brandt/OC that's surprising . Lora Marlow's an IMF agent who has to teamp up with Hunt to get three KGB agents back to the US.
1. Dah Hell?

_**A/N: Better get things straight. I am totally unable to finish my other stories until I get other plots out of my mind. This one is quite intoxicating. So I've decided to finish it before posting the whole of it.**_

_**T'was supposed to be a one-shot, which ended into many many words, and I had to cut it down.**_

_**Hope you enjoy!**_

**1. Dah Hell?**

I could feel it. I had finally reached the men's lair. I could feel a wave of relief over me. It was quite unusual for me to be relieved.

I leaned on the wooden door, and as suspected, I could hear several voices behind it. All male. I still couldn't make if they're speaking in Russian, though, I wasn't fluent.

I'd been assigned a mission right after the Ghost Protocol was aborted. Me. A mere novice. On the field. Alone. Sublime idea.

So I was there, standing behind a door in India, gun at hand, waiting for the right moment to make a fracassing entrance.

I got my chance, finally, as I heard one man coming my way.

I kicked the door open and pointed my gun into..._nothing_. There was no one in there.

Bugger. I've been screwed.

I merely had the time to notice a sudden wave of air before someone tried to kick my gun off my hand from behind. Fortunately for me, I still had a straining, not so long ago.

I sent my leg on his to make him trip, but he just jumped, allowing me to grip his right arm and to make him swirl above my shoulder.

Then I gasped. Before me, lying on the dusty floor, was Ethan Bloody Hunt.

"Oops" I said as I outstretched a hand to help him up.

A gun touching my bare back stopped me. A female voice then said "Don't move or you're dead." Great, now I've gotten myself a new best friend.

A small blonde man came out of a back room, and ran to Ethan to help him up in my place.

Agent Hunt stared at me with bull's-eyes, and pointed at my face. "Do not _ever_ do that again, understood?"

The gun in my back disappeared. "You know her?"

Ethan nodded. "It's Agent Lora Marlow. She was a novice before Moscow. Now she's a full-time agent." I snorted. "What, isn't that the case?"

I shook my head. "If I was a full-time agent, I wouldn't have found myself in a pitiful Indian place, chasing KGB's agents, and fall on you guys. What the hell are you doing here anyway?"

Ethan sat at a table, and the woman who kept me "entertained" came to sit in front of him, her gun still firmly held in her hand. He nodded towards her. "This is Agent Jane Carter, and there is Agent Benji Dunn." He nodded at the guy who helped him up. Something of a Briton here.

"Three of you? Are you on a mission or something?" I said, turning around to close the door on the silent street.

Carter nodded. "Same as you, apparently. We have to find three rogue KGB's agents and bring them back safely to Guantanamo."

I nodded. "That's what I've been assigned to do too. So I guess they just wanted me to think I was a full agent while in fact they were just throwing me into their best agent's arms."

Ethan smirked and crossed his arms. "I'm flattered, Lora, but I think this will be hard as hell to find you a use. Benji here is our computer operator, Jane is our backup leader, and we have another guy who helps for...various things."

I sat on the floor and smirked back. "Then I can be your team-leader."

Carter looked at me as if I was insane, Benji as if I was going to win huge repress, and Ethan just kept his famous poker face on.

I then started to laugh. "Your faces are just priceless. Agent Hunt, I thought you knew. I'm a impressionist. Quite good, apparently, thought I couldn't finish my training due to...obvious reasons."

He nodded back. "I remember. You can be of some use then. Still, I want to know something. How did you escape Ghost Protocol?"

I shrugged. "I didn't escape it, I impersonated it. See, there was a bunch of C.I.A puppets on the HQ who were supposed to wash the whole place up. I just pretended to be one of them, and they bought it."

Benji whistled. "Well, if you can fool the C.I.A-"

"Anyone can fool them, they are a bunch of idiots." Ethan got up. "Brandt should be back with our uniforms now. Where the hell is he?"

Carter grabbed her phone. "Darn. Still no service."

Benji smirked. "You're in India, dear, not in bloody New-York."

I sat on Ethan's chair and started tapping an old song on the table's wood.

And the minutes passed. And passed again.

And then, all of a sudden, the door opened and someone got in.

Oops. No, not someone, sorry. _The_ someone. I had to swallow very noisily and pretend not to look at him before I got spotted.

My, the man was gorgeous. Short brown hair, chiselled face, and my-god blue eyes. Jeez, I had to look blankly at the table for a while before recovering some countenance and finally look up.

My gaze met his. He was looking at me quite quizzically, in fact. Ethan looked between the two of us, and then gestured to the apparition.

"Lora, this is Agent William Brandt, former chief-analyst. Brandt, this is Agent Lora Marlow. She's here to help. She's a professional impressionist."

The man – Brandt – looked impressed for a second, and then he came up to me to shake hands.

I tried not to look too obvious as I stared at him. Man, the guy was a pure Olympian God or what?

Benji then planted a plate in front of me. "Come on, Miss Novice, diner has arrived. And trust old Brandt to bring back delicious food." Then he leaned down to pretend to whisper. "The man's tastes in gastronomy are quite indefinite."

I fought back a smirk as Brandt mimicked shooting Benji in the head.

Good Lord! I was about to go on a mission with Freaking Hunt and his team, and of course also with a dangerously hot fellow-agent. That was not what my training told me I'd do!


	2. The first of many

**2. The first of many**

After that frugal diner (Brandt had managed to buy a bread and two slices of meat to make it look like a sandwich), I made myself a coffee in the small room that was used as the kitchen by everyone.

Benji soon joined me. "So, Agent Marlow-"

I huffed. "Please, call me Lora. I'm old enough to be your niece."

He looked somewhere between amused and vexed. "You're not that young."

I smirked. "No, of course not. I could have said "old enough to be your daughter", but I've learnt after time that that joke wasn't taken well by most people."

He smiled and then grabbed two mugs. "May I join you?"

I nodded. "Of course. But aren't you Brits supposed to drink only tea?"

Then he chuckled. "And aren't you novices all supposed to be dumb?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. Most of my fellow novices were arrested, and some killed, so, yeah, I guess I'm the only one in a bunch to be smart."

Benji looked really mischievous at that point. "So, what do you think of Brandt?"

I ignored the question. "Dunno. And don't care, actually." I turned to take the mugs and fill it with the dark brew when I met his gaze. He was giving me one of those "yeah, tell me about it" looks I couldn't resist for long. I was so dim when it came to interviews! "What?"

He leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Oh, come on. Everyone in that room saw how you stopped breathing when he got in. Like a pretty face, eh?"

'Pretty face, pretty butt, pretty everything, actually.' I thought. "I was merely surprised he wasn't looking that bad. _Brandt_ isn't really a name implying someone that handsome." Good, giving hints but not much.

Benji at that point looked quite the kind of matchmaker Briton I hoped I'd never meet. "Mmh, of course. Thanks for the cup, Smartass." And he got back to the main room, leaving alone with my mug and my thoughts.

Dear oh dear, did I really look that obvious at all? Bad bad bad.

I chose to get upstairs and try to see where I was going to sleep.

For an Indian house, it was quite a big house. I spotted the bathroom, with a single sink and toilet, and facing it Benji's room, full of electronic stuff. The other room, which looked like a child's bedroom, was obviously occupied by Carter, and the next one, a little bigger, was Ethan's.

It left me with two rooms in the attic. Great. Now I was going to live in the same floor as Brandt. Did they do it on purpose at all?

I got on the second floor and had to watch not to bang my head on the low ceiling.

There were three rooms in the attic. One was another little bathroom, and one was Brandt's room, which I didn't enter. I got into the last one, a very small bedroom with a bed and a desk, nothing more. The mattress looked cosy enough, and I launched myself on it for testing. That wasn't that bad, I just had to grab some beddings.

Someone knocked on the door, so softly I nearly didn't hear it. "Come in!"

And I had to bury my nose in my coffee not to choke on _his_ apparition. Dear oh dear, why did he have to wear that white shirt and those tight tight trousers that curved his perfect-?

"Am I disturbing you in any way?"

I looked up in his face and in his gorgeous blue eyes. "No, you're not. I was merely visiting my new home."

He entered and closed the door behind him. "Yeah, about that, don't think I'm a maniac or anything, but could you...try...not to jump on your bed like you just did? It echoes around the all floor."

I widened my eyes. "You mean...you're already crossed at me for disturbing house noises?"

He shook his head, obviously uncomfortable. "No, it's just that...I wouldn't..." He sighed. "Okay, I always loathed living on upper floors because I've always feared the ground to collapse."

I snorted a little and then straightened up. "You? Agent Brandt from IMF, are afraid of high grounds?" I could see he wasn't sure how to take it. So I helped him a little. "I promise I'll think not to do it again."

He beamed. "Thanks. And, please-"

"I won't tell any of them. Sworn."

He nodded and, without another word, turned on his heels and got out of the room, leaving me sighing about the sight I was offered before he left. God, that man was going to be a hell for my hormones!

Later, I found myself retrieving my luggage I had left in the airport, waiting for my mission to be over. Ethan had gone fetch it himself, and I was more than glad to jump into my favourite fluffy pyjamas for the night. As well as cleaned beddings.

I wished Benji goodnight, as he was still typing on his computer, merely nodded to Carter and kissed Ethan's cheek before getting upstairs.

I should have prepared myself again. Goodness me I should have remembered to breathe before heading to my room.

Because Brandt was in the bathroom, door opened, cleaning his teeth.

_Bare chested._

Too much to bear. I had to stare like an idiot at his perfectly fit pecks before remembering who and where I was. I escaped quickly to my own room and locked the door in case.

I was unfortunately currently standing in an Indian house. So the locks weren't what they were in the U.S.A. I heard the door open swiftly, and I didn't even turn around, too afraid to lock my gaze with his. What an idiot I was!

But I had to turn around, of course. If only to be polite. I nearly sighed in relief when I saw that he had put a blue shirt on, even if it still was unbuttoned.

I breathed once more before plastering my own poker face on. And I lifted my eyebrows, clearly stating I wondered why William Brandt was standing in front of my bedroom door, gazing into my eyes as if he had forgotten how to think.

Bugger.

"Brandt? Do you need anything?"

He very slowly shook his head, and tried to speak twice, before just gesturing what looked like a "sorry", and I could once more admire his perfect ass when he got out.

What the Hell had just happened?


	3. The beginning of something great

**3. The beginning of something great**

The following morning, and as I hadn't received any schedule for the day, I hurried to the bathroom quite early, and made sure that lock worked. There was no way on Earth that Godamnass was seeing me naked. Not like that anyway. Shush it brain!

I quickly washed my red hair and combed it so that it didn't look like a bird's nest, and washed the rest of my anatomy on the same pace, seeing as the water was freezing and, to be honest, brownish by moments.

I then put simple blue jeans on, and a red tee shirt with "_Downtown_" written on it.

And then, I silently got back into my room, and pushed my earplugs on as hard as I could.

When I heard _Moment of surrender_ by U2, I started crying at the lyrics. Couldn't help it.

Of course I hadn't heard him come in. So when the song ended and I opened my eyes in wonder, I nearly jumped out of the bed in a defensive posture. Except Brandt wasn't looking aggressive. At all.

He was quite quizzical, in fact. And I was more that surprised when he outstretched a hand to wipe my tears away. I kept staring at him, and him at me, until he finally realised what he had just done.

He seemed to have received quite a chock, and he got up for the floor to stand by the window, his hands in his jeans pockets. God turn around, Brandt, so I stop staring at that perfect excuse for a bottom you have!

He must have heard my pray, 'cause he soon turned around and looked at me with almost sad eyes. "Why are you crying?"

I felt my eyes widen at the question. I had imagined a thousand other questions: 'What happened last night?' 'Why did you stare at me like that when I was only brushing my gorgeous teeth?' 'How do you find my ass?' 'Would you go out with me on Saturday night?'. But no, he wanted to know why I had cried. Which wasn't less sexy, I must say. Anything this man said was sexy as hell.

"I was listening to a sad song. _Moment of surrender_, U2. Nothing more. I wasn't grieving anyone, and I wasn't having a nightmare."

"Oh." His eyes met mine and, once again, we just stared at each other without saying anything.

"I think you'll be needed today." I hadn't seen his lips move, but it definitely was his voice, so I stopped my trance.

"Yeah? What for?"

He shrugged. "We're about to do as planned on tomorrow night, so I guessed Ethan would want to be prepared for everything. Go to the hotel as a scout or something."

I nodded. "I don't know a thing about this plan."

He looked sorry. "I shouldn't have been the one to tell you about it then."

I shook my head and got up, subconsciously moving towards him. "I don't mind you talking to me. Even if you're not meant to."

He was about to reply when the door opened and revealed Ethan, biting in an apple, smirking like the devil between Brandt and I. "Hello."

I sat back down and pulled my earplugs out. "Good morning Hunt."

He winked at Brandt and then turned to me. "I need you. Now."

I nodded and got up to exit the room, without a look back at my morning visitor. Better not compromise myself as much as I already was.

In the stairs, Hunt leaned in and whispered in my ear. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

I snorted. "You think yourself funny, Hunt?"

I felt him shrug. "You know, you're not looking that a bad couple, the Shyguy and you. Smartass."

I turned swiftly on my heels, registered his smirk, and ran in the main room where I nearly assaulted the poor Briton. "Benjiiiii!"

He pushed me aside, and smiled to me kindly. "Wha'? T's a good nickname, no?"

I sat on a chair and shot him a death cold glare. He just chuckled.

Ethan put a file in front of me. Inside it was the photos of our three targets. Antonian Slikov, Berio Markov and Leonid Fozev. The three KGB agents we had to take down and bring back to America alive. After that was a photograph of a posh New Dheli hotel, 5 stars, welcoming a bunch of the greatest opera stars in the world. Every western country was represented.

I turned to Ethan. "So, are the targets going to that event?" He shot me a "what do you think" glance. "'Kay. What do you want me to do?"

He pointed at the flag representing Italy. "You still speak fluent Italian?" I nodded. "Then, it's very nice to meet you, Signorina Bellarosa."

I smiled and took a posture typically taken by Italian stars. "So grreat to meet you, signore Hunt. My countrry has great...amore forr you."

Carter whistled. "Wow. For a moment, I thought I was listening to Claudia Cardinale."

I beamed. "It was she I mainly observed for the typical responses of italian women. She's so...yeah, italian." I turned back to our team leader. "What am I to do?"

He turned another page of the file, where lied a detailed plan of the hotel. "You'll take Markov. He's fluent in italian and spanish, and loves going in Florenzia during his spare time. I guess it won't be hard for you to seduce him." I shook my head. Easy done. "You'll have a hairpin/needle in your wig - dark brown hair, it'll suit you – with which you'll be more than able to make him sleep during three hours. You'll be operating in the great hall" he turned a page and I saw a beautiful ballroom with a dozen balconies, "and then manage to get him up to this room, 296, on the twentieth floor" he showed me another picture, of a big suite with a common balcony with the next room. "Benji will be operating from 298, so you'll just have to pass the man from one room to the other. From that point, Brandt will have secured the rest of the level, and you'll carry Markov to the staircase, make him descend to ground ten, where the last level of the parking lies. Carter, who would have taken care of Fozev, will be there with the cab. I, on the other hand, will get Slikov from the thirtieth floor to the ground using the roof and the surrounding buildings."

I nodded to him during the all explanation. "So you've already have everything settled?"

He shook his head. "We don't have the costumes." I lifted my eyebrows. "Carter and you will go buy your wigs and dresses, while Benji and I prepare the field and hack the camera settings for tomorrow. Brandt" he gestured to the man who I hadn't noticed was standing in the doorframe, "will stay here and check the weapons. Your hairpin, Carter's lipstick, my buttonrose, and a few hidden guns in case."

I nodded again. "Okay, let me grab my coat." I joked, and I went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water before going. Carter was already waiting for me when I returned.

Hunt and Benji were upstairs, as the noises implied, but Brandt was already sat in an armchair, checking five pistols. I walked to him very carefully.

"Hey, Brandt." He turned his ohmygod face to me, and I launched my MP3 player in his lap. "Wouldn't want you to get bored."


	4. Getting dressed

**4. Getting dressed**

Carter and I were soon outside of our lair. She walked me to a car, old model, which drove us to a little mall approximatively ten miles away from the close we were occupying.

I always felt uncomfortable with her, as if she wasn't liking me at all and I felt as if I had to watch my back at any moment.

I soon understood why though.

When we parked the car and got out of it to go shopping, she put her sunglasses on and turned to face me.

"So, how have you met Ethan, then?"

I didn't know how to take the question, and so I answered honestly. "He was my fighting instructor for a month."

She nodded. "And?"

I shrugged. "And nothing much. He disappeared when his wife was killed, and I hadn't seen him since."

"You were friends?"

I shook my head. "Nope, not really. I was still a novice, and pretty shy too, at that time. Guess he only liked me because I was the only one who disobeyed his direct orders."

She pushed her glasses lower on her nose so I could see she was surprised.

"Once, he asked us to fight against our fellow novices. I got the guy down pretty fast, and Ethan asked us to start over again. After half an hour, the man I was fighting against was completely screwed, and I could see that he had more that a couple of bruises. Ethan ordered me to fight him once more, and I said no. He ordered once or twice more, and I answered by kicking him in the legs and exiting the practise room. That was the last time I saw him, actually."

Carter put her glasses back on. "Okay. That was all I wanted to know."

I smirked and she drove me into the mall to a ball dresses shop owned by a French woman.

"'Ello, Mesdemoiselles. Can I 'elp you?"

Carter nodded. "We need four dresses for a very posh event."

The owner smiled. "I see. Come wiz me, please." And we followed her upstairs, where lied hundreds of gorgeous dresses. I had to remember to close my mouth before drooling on the silk fabrics.

The woman turned to me. "You are quite pritty, Miss, so I tink a dark blue one would sut you well. Come 'ere so I take your measures." I walked up to her, and she wrapped a measuring tape around my waist, chest and thighs. "Gud. You can get into zat closet, I bring you many dresses to try on."

I did as asked while I heard she was measuring Carter as well. I thought it wasn't that bad she had chosen dark blue as a colour, since it got well with both red hair and brunettes.

I was handed the first dress, a velvet midnight blue one with strassy straps. I put it on swiftly, but it wasn't tight enough, and well too bare backed.

The second one was a little tighter, and a beautiful ocean blue in satin, which made it look like it was water. However, the straps were too fine and I couldn't move well in it. That would have been a bugger if I had to fight someone.

The third one was awfully tight. I looked like one of those models who came to the Oscars dressed as if it was 50°C outside. I quickly got it off.

The fourth one was the one I adopted. Midnight blue strapless and so tight I could feel myself breathing (which was good because that way I was sure not to lose it in close fight) and cut down the knee. The right part was also longer than the left. Perfect.

When I got out of the closet to show the result to Carter, she was herself caught in a gorgeous lipstick red dress which highlighted her eyes. There was only one strap, on her left shoulder, and it was shorter on the front than on the back.

"Wow, Carter. You do look gorgeous."

She lifted her eyebrows. "Thanks Marlow. You do look nice yourself."

I nodded and got in to change back into my plain clothes.

I was quite surprised when the shop owner offered us the shoes that went with the dresses, but apparently that was the tradition was good clients. We had chosen our two favourites for the ball itself, and for our arrival earlier in the afternoon, I had chosen the satin dress and Carter one light blue silk gown.

I was offered a pair of midnight blue Louboutins and Carter a pair of insanely high heels as red as blood.

We only had to drive a little more to find a wig shop. The owner, an Indian short man, was offered more than needed to ensure his discretion.

We then got back to our little "home".

Carter had been friendlier during this whole thing than ever since I had met her. Guess my thought of her having a crush on Hunt wasn't that wrong, after all.

Benji welcomed us in the main room, already glued to his computer. He soon called me to check the look-about of my room, the 296 on the twentieth floor.

"See? The balcony gets of the back on the hotel, so when we pass Markov from your room to mine, there shouldn't be anyone looking. Still, I've got a back-up plan if anyone spots us. I added a component to the sleeping draft so that if he wakes up he'll feel as if he had passed out drunk."

I patted his shoulder. This all thing was insane, but Benji was the best at what he did.

Ethan soon got downstairs and pinned me on a chair. "There are still things to discuss, Signorina."

I smirked. "Dammelo, Signore Hunt. Per favore."

He smirked back. "Good, I see that you haven't lost everything from your language's lessons. You're aware that Markov, as soon as introduced to you, will most probably address you in Italian rather than in English." I nodded. "Right. Also, we have another problem to resolve. You'll have to introduce yourself, while arriving, to the party host, Mossem Ali."

I nodded. "The Indian billionaire."

"Yep. That shouldn't be hard. You'll just have to find you a common friend, even if it's someone who never existed. Those men always pretend to be someone they aren't, he won't think of you as a danger."

"Sure. And, there's also another thing that's disturbing, Ethan."

He leaned in and put his hands under his chin. "Which is?"

"You can't expect a famous Italian actress and a French businesswoman to arrive at a ball without partners."

Benji chuckled. "I knew she would bring it up sometime."

I sent him a killing glare. "Shut it, Brit."

Hunt seemed amused. "Indeed, you can't be brought alone to such an event. I thought that was decided already. I'll go with Carter, you'll go with Brandt." I breathed noisily once or twice to stop thinking about myself in a gorgeous dress walking at Brandt's arm. Ooh dear. "Shouldn't be that hard, eh?"

And Hunt got up to walk to Benji. Meeting dismissed.

I ghostly got to the second floor to put my accessories for the day after in my bedroom.

A soft knock soon disturbed my already shattered thoughts.

"Get in, Brandt."

I heard the door close behind him, and he cleared his throat so I had to turn around to face him.

"What is it you need?"

He blinked once or twice before recovering his tongue hidden somewhere in his mouth. "Huh, I was just...bringing you your...weapons for tomorrow."

I stared at him for a few seconds more, and then sat on my bed. "Show me."

He sat next to me, and though he was closer that I would have dreamt, I was entirely focused on what he had brought me.

He had given me a black tiny handbag, in which was hidden my earplug for the mission and the famous wig pin/needle. He showed me how to use it, and showed me how a innocent-looking comb could be transformed into a silent gun.

"Wow, that's impressive, Brandt."

He blushed a little. "I only hid it in the bag. Benji did most of it."

I nodded. "Yet, it's still very impressive."

I turned to watch him, and his face was standing so close to mine I had to move my eyes to watch both his. Which were doing exactly the same thing.

"I should probably head back to my room." He gulped.

I shook my head. "You're not disturbing me, you know."

"I...guessed so."

I silently chuckled. "Do you know what you're going to wear for tomorrow night?"

He nodded. "I've got a grey costume for the afternoon, and a dark one for the night. I'll be wearing glasses that can scan the public, too, in case."

I nodded. "I hope it doesn't bother you to be my cover."

He shook his head. "Not at all. And I hope it doesn't bother you."

I smiled. "No. Imagine, if I went with Ethan, he'd stand twenty yards shorter than I. At least, you're almost my height."

"I'm a little taller than you, I think."

"I think so too."

And we remained silent for a little more moments, staring in each other's eyes like two complete idiots.

And then my phone rang. I grabbed it out of impulse, still locking my gaze to Brandt's.

It was Hunt.

"Could you and Shyguy please get down for diner? Thanks a lot!"

Brandt sighed and smirked a little. I answered it and got up, outstretching a hand to help him up.

When our fingers met, I could feel a chock wave through my spine.

Brandt opened the door and made me pass before him, preventing me to once more drool over him.

Oh goodness me, what was happening to me?


	5. That's it

**5. That's it**

This time, Ethan and Benji had had the time to fetch some decent food, and as I was devouring my Chinese take-out at the table, Brandt came to me, carrying what looked like a wooden plank.

"Hey. Sorry, but I wondered if you ever wanted to play chess with me? None of them want to." He gestured to our three team-mates in his back, two of which were giving thumbs-up. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, why not. T's been a while, though."

He shrugged. "I do not play that often myself." He put the game on the table. "Just thought it'd pass the time." He then put my MP3 player next to my fork. "I had forgotten to give it back earlier. You listen to quite a different average of music."

I lifted my eyes, but he had his gaze locked on the pawns and pieces he was placing for the game. "Yeah, I like different kinds of music. Hope you haven't been turned deaf once or twice."

He smirked. "I must admit that Marylin Manson isn't really my favourite "singer", but his version of _Sweet dreams_ is one of a kind."

I nodded. "Yeah."

He put his eyes back on my face and turned the panel. "Thought you'd like the white pieces."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why?"

He shrugged again. "You don't like black that much, am I not right?"

I hid my surprise a little. "That's right."

He gestured me to move the first pawn.

For a while, we focused on the game. Brandt was analysing every move I made to block it, and I was just focused on how to get to the other side. I lost the first part.

After my loss, I was more determined to get him down. I left clues about my next move, and then pushed a complete other piece on. He didn't seem startled at first, but definitely wasn't that happy when we ended pat.

After we just started the last part, Benji came to us, watched us play for a while and then kissed my cheek before getting upstairs to sleep. Carter soon followed.

Ethan sat next to me and started reviewing our plan file for the next day.

Brandt started to seem uncomfortable as soon as we weren't alone to play anymore. I smirked to that, and used it to win.

"Check mate, William."

His eyes locked on mine as soon as I used his first-name. I just smirked once more, and started regrouping the pieces to tidy them up in their home box.

He helped me, of course, and every single time our fingers touched, our eyes were meeting. It was quite weird, something between normal and illegal.

Ethan cleared his throat though didn't look at us directly. "I'm going to bed. See you both tomorrow, and please do have some sleep."

I rolled my eyes and left Brandt putting the chess game back where he had found it.

I waited for him to get upstairs, which surprised him apparently.

We both stopped in front of his room.

"Well, goodnight, then." I said though not moving a limb.

He nodded, and didn't move as well.

He blinked, I blinked, and he moved his hand very slowly to stop it before my stomach. When I understood what he wanted, I widened my eyes.

The usual chock waved on me as I shook hands with him.

And then I turned on my heels and nearly jumped on my bed to recover a little dignity. Except I had promised not to jump on it anymore, so I just pretended I jumped on it.

Weirdly enough, I fell asleep at once.

When I woke up the following day, what first startled me was the heat, so high it was hard to breathe, and what second surprised me was that it as almost eleven.

I then ran to take a shower and put a simple outfit on. After all, I'd have to change into posh clothes not an hour later.

I was welcomed in the kitchen by a dark-haired and green eyes Benji, which was such a difference with usual that I had almost not recognized him.

Ethan wasn't changed yet, and Carter apparently was in her room to put wig and dress on.

Brandt was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Smartass. Slept well, I hope?"

I rubbed my eyes and yawned one single time before swallowing my whole coffee cup in one go, burning my tongue in the process. "Yeah, I did, thanks Benji. Why are you already changed?"

He smiled. "I'm the one who has to be there first, remember? I'm the one who gives you your keys and everything."

"Oh, right. You're my..." I gestured to make him understand I didn't remember the word.

"Butler."

I nodded. "So, when are you leaving?"

"In a quarter. I have to go lent the car too."

I nodded again. "Choose some car that shows the Italian part well, please."

"You can count of me for that." He exited the room and I merely saw him packing his computer and every tool in his disposition before he got out of my sight.

Ethan soon replaced him. "You shouldn't eat quickly. As soon as Carter's ready, we're going, and you should be ready for when Benji comes back."

I nodded. "Let me swallow some sugary stuff before I enter my character, Signore."

He smiled. "I think you'll find Brandt rather nice today."

I rolled my eyes. "Where is he by the way?"

"Getting into character as well. You probably forgot that he once was chief-analyst. He too can impersonate people."

That was surprising. "And who will he be impersonating, then?"

"Your director/lover. That's quite often seen in cinema, isn't it?" He smirked once more and exited the room as well.

Oh bugger. So Brandt and I were supposed to be lovers. Great. That meant lusty eyes, and ass-grabbing. Good heavens.


	6. Stay put

**6. Stay put**

After that realisation, I quickly ate two biscuits before getting back to my room, where I made sure my body was overall looking good, put brown lenses, my dress, under which I wore nothing but my underwear – bugger – and finally my brown wig, which I made sure was hiding every single strand of red hair, and which I put up in a complex bun I tied with the lethal hairpin.

I then quickly put light make-up on, and a touch of the reddest lipstick I could find, before checking my handbag one last time.

I was done. And it had taken me half an hour to do that. For Heaven's, why didn't they wake me up?

I thought about running downstairs, but the shoes weren't really safe for that kind of mood, so I walked at steadily as I could to the stairs.

Brandt's door opened and he got into the corridor just before I reached it.

We stood there, gazing at each other up and down.

Ooh gosh, that man was wearing a suit. A grey suit with a dark tie. And dark glasses. And his sandy hair was combed back on his head to make him look smarter. Or sexier, following my trail of thoughts.

He offered me a hand to help me down. And I didn't unlock my eyes from his the whole time.

Of course, Benji was already there, in his black suit, waiting for his "clients".

"Ready, lovebirds?"

I entered my character and put my sunglasses on, taking a posture owned my confident women who knew they were desired by half the planet. "Go on, little man frrom Inghilterra."

Brandt helped me get into the back of the Bentley Benji had lent, and soon sat next to me, our bodies only separated by his dark bag which contained my other dress and his own tools to open doors.

Benji drove us to the highway, before turning around and head towards the hotel as if we had just gotten down a plane in Delhi's airport.

It was very hard to stay put as I was awfully aware of the demigod sitting next to me and of his hand which was only inches from mine.

When we reached the hotel, some lad came to open my door. I smiled my most engaging smile and got out of the car, waving and blowing kissed to the photographs gathered around the hotel's front doors. Benji got out after me and grabbed the bag, and Brandt was the last one to join, as he soon wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my jaw lightly. I giggled and patted his cheek as we got into the hotel.

A man walked to us. "Miss?"

Benji walked up. "Signorina Laora Bellarosa, and her very good friend, director Gale Midway."

The man nodded. "Miss Bellarosa, will you join Mr Ali for diner?"

I shook my head gracefully. "No, grazie, but Signore Midway and I woulde like a time alone."

He nodded again and handed Benji the room keys. "Room 296, as requested, Miss, on the twentieth floor."

I turned to my "servant". "Andiamo, Carter, andiamo! Non voglio passare la giornata nel questo hall!"

Benji nodded. "Si, Signorina." He gestured me to go towards an elevator, and he entered last to push on the 20th button.

We stayed in character all the way up. When the engine stopped, I pretended to fall into Brandt's arms, and he caught me with a wicked smile I didn't know he owned.

Benji walked us to the 296 and opened the door, making me and Brandt enter first.

I got out of my shoes as soon as in, and literally tore my wig away. Then as I remembered some important point, I turned to Benji. "You had gotten the cameras down, I hope."

He rolled his eyes and opened the door leading to the balcony to reach his own room. Leaving me alone with Brandt.

I turned to him. He had ruffled his hair back into their usual position, and had put his glasses on a table. He was acknowledging the room when I walked up to him. "I didn't know you could act this easily."

He snapped his gaze back on me. "I'm not that an idiot."

I tilted my head on the right. "I read somewhere that you had been an Agent, not so long ago. What happened?"

He sighed. "Do you really want to do this now?"

I nodded. "What else are we going to do until 18?"

He sighed again and nodded. "Okay. But, if we ever are to be disturbed by some lad, I'd rather see you brown haired once more." I nodded and walked to the huge bathroom to put my wig back on. I looked at him, leaning on the door frame, through the mirror. "You? Shouldn't you comb you hair back?"

He shrugged. "If we are pretending to be lovers, better to look as if we had just made out, don't you think?"

I nodded. "Then, get out. I'll play the game to its best." He exited the room, and I quickly got out of my dress to wrap a bath towel around me.

When I was done, I walked back into the gorgeous bedroom. William was sitting on the bed, and his blue eyes widened when he saw me get in.

"This way, we'll be credible." A knock made itself heard in the other room. I turned to him. "Get your jacket off and unbutton your shirt a little."

I then bounced to the bedroom door and opened it in a lusty way.

A very tall coffee skinned man was standing in front of me. His dark brown eyes widened when he saw me, and then he smirked. "Signorina Bellarosa?"

I nodded. "It is me. And what owes me the pleasurre, Signore?"

The man bowed. "Let me introduce myself. I am Mossem Ali, your host."

I chuckled and put my hand under his nose so he kissed it. "Verry nice to meet you, Signore Ali. And thank you forr inviting me and my frriend, we are honourred."

His eyebrows lifted. "Did I invite you?"

I chuckled again. "You arre such a jokerr! We do have a frriend in common, I believe. Jean-Pierre Carneau, frrom Marseille. He lent you his yacht morre than once, I think. Him and I were...verry good frriends."

The man beamed and winked. "Of course. Jean-Pierre. I do remember him very well. Now, my mean told me you'd rather stay in your room during tonight's diner, but I do hope you'll honour me of you presence during the ball?"

I nodded. "I wouldn't miss that forr the worrld!"

Brandt then came behind me and wrapped his arm around me once more. "Mr Ali, honoured to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you through my delightful Laora."

Mossem bowed once more. "Nice to meet you too, Mr Midway. I will leave you to your charming partner. See you later, I hope."

He started walking away, but I added one slurry sentence. "Oh, do not fearr, Signore Ali, Gale isn't going to tirre me too much! Andiamo, mi amore, no ho finito di impararti qualche cose!" And I pulled him back into the room, slamming the door with my foot.

Brandt got out of my grip quite quickly, and got back to the bedroom where he sat back onto the bed. "That went well."

I chuckled. "I think this role is going to be easy to keep." I launched myself next to him, and apologized. "Sorry. I forgot for a moment."

He smiled kindly. "That's alright. Bad habits die hard."

I nodded and then sat back on the bed's cushions. "So, Signore Midway, where were we? Oh, yeah, I was asking you why you decided to leave your post of IMF agent."

He sighed and unwrapped his tie, which he launched in one corner of the room. "Are you pret-?"

"Told you I wanted to know."

He looked into my eyes for a moment, and then started his story. "When Hunt's wife died, I was the one who was supposed to look after her."

My eyes widened. "Oh my god. I would have been destroyed for less than that!" I leaned in in an attempt to comfort him, but my hand didn't land where it was meant to be when he captured it with his.

"That's alright. I've accepted to get my job back, because I learned something important after Dubaï." I lifted my eyebrows to make him go on. "Hunt's wife has never been dead. It was a asset. Hunt had to infiltrate that Serbian prison. Julia still lives under another name, somewhere."

I sighed in relief. "Ooh dear. I really don't know how you've lived with that weight on your shoulders that long."

He looked down. "Sometimes I do wonder myself." He looked at our hands for a moment, and I didn't move an inch, until it was his time to ask a question. "Why did you choose to do that job?"

I huffed. "My dad was a MI-6 agent. Never knew it before he got killed by a North-Corean agent. Mum and I have been told what was his job after that, and I guess I wanted revenge somehow. I was seventeen at the time, and they didn't want me in as soon as that, so I just got my degree from theatre before applying."

"That explains your abilities to get into character."

I smiled. "Oh, I can assure you that's not that easy. The character you're getting into depends also on the people who play beside you." I locked my eyes with his.

"And, did they accept you right away?"

I nodded. "For some obvious reasons, they were more than suspicious about my motivation, but I got it straight from the beginning and they succeeded into making me forget that part of me that lusted for murder. I got promoted after Ghost Protocol was initiated, as I was the only one of my promotion to get out alive."

He smiled. "23 and already having dangerous missions."

I looked down into his gaze. "Yeah. But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

My phone rang at that precise moment. Brandt got up to take it in my bag, and I heard Ethan's voice coming from it.

"So, lovebirds, settled in your nest?"

Brandt looked at me once more before answering. "Yes, we are. You?"

"Everything in place. Ms Delores has just made it clear she didn't want a common room with me." I smiled at the thought that it was far from the truth. "Don't forget that when you appear during the ball you have to look like you had an argument."

Brandt nodded, his gaze in the far horizon. "That won't be a problem. Signorina Bellarosa is a cold hearted bitch who implied I wasn't good in bed."

Ethan and I both burst into laugh. Though I didn't say a thing. He did. "She won't say the same after all of this is over, I can tell you. See ya later." And he clicked the phone out.

Brandt turned back to me. I gulped.

"You should get some rest. I'll wake you up at five." I nodded, and got into the covers. He just exited the room and I heard the balcony's door open and close as he was joining Benji.


	7. One mission that goes well

**7. One mission that goes well**

At seven o'clock precisely, Brandt and I got down to the ballroom on ground one. We had made sure the whole floor heard us having a boasting argument (me shouting in Italian, he in both) which explained why I was so eager to get far from him as I reached the stairs.

My dress had made William stare for a long moment, but as his suit had too, none had looked more of an idiot than the other.

Ethan was already busy trying to get in contact with Slikov, and Carter was nowhere to be seen.

Mossem Ali soon spotted me and welcomed me with a warm smile which I returned.

"Signorina Bellarosa, what a pleasure to see you tonight. You look lovely."

I beamed. "Grazie, Signore Ali. As I tolde you earrlierr, I wouldn't have missed yourr parrty forr the worrld."

I saw that he was surrounded by a bunch of gentleman, including a Vietnamese director, and Markov, my target. The asian walked to me first.

"Miss Bellarosa, I am honoured to meet someone as famous as you are."

I beamed and offered him a hand, already playing with my eyelashes towards the Russian.

Ali introduced us. "Mister Yoki Koyokana, Mister Berio Markov, this is Miss Laora Bellarosa, famous Italian actress." I bowed to both gentlemen, though still locking my gaze on Markov.

Ali soon left us to salute other guests, and Markov turned to me. "Perdoname, Signorina, ma posso usare la vostra lingua per parlare con lei?"

I beamed. "Sarebbe un piacere."

He offered me his arm and I took it. "Mi è stato detto che saresti venuta con un amico?"

I gestured the thought away. "Quel signore non è il mio amico. O più."

He seemed happy of the thought. "Posso poi trascorrere la serata con lei?"

I smiled. "Si, certo!" And he walked me towards a table where we sat and watched as the first singer made her way on the stage.

All along the evening, nothing much happened. Carter had made her way in my sight with Fozev, and was really useful making all sorts of drinks fall on his lap so she wiped it. Ethan had managed to sit at the same table as Slikov, and Brandt was nowhere to be seen. Which meant he was already busy making sure no one got up to the twentieth or used the emergency staircase.

When the last singer has finished his song, in Italian, which was Don Giovanni, Markov turned to me and grabbed my hand. "Vuole andare da qualche parte?"

I nodded, faking shyness. "Se non vede il mio amico."

He looked around quickly. "Non è nessuna parte."

I got up. "In modo da venirlei nella mia stanza, saremo tranquilli."

He nodded and we quickly exited the ballroom, took the elevator and got to 296 in no time. The man was already kissing my neck from behind, but he was nowhere near Brandt playing that game.

When we got in, I pushed in roughly towards the bedroom, and made him fall onto the covers. I then kicked my shoes off and unzipped my dress to make good measure.

"Lei è un uomo brutto!" And I took my hairpin out. Markov was so aroused he didn't even notice when I plunged the needle in his neck, and he was out.

I soon zipped my dress back up, and pulled the man down the bed and towards the balcony. But, before I opened the door, someone knocked on the bedroom's door.

I ran to the peephole, and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Brandt standing before me, eyeing the corridor warily.

I opened the door as quick as I could.

"William? What are y-?"

I was silenced when he pushed me aside and pushed his warm lips to mine.

I must admit I wasn't really in a state to think, at that moment. I was more focusing on Brandt's lips which were sucking my upper one, and I groaned under his face. He wrapped his left arm around me and pushed me against him as I myself tried to find a use for my own arms.

He broke the kiss oh-too-soon and when I opened my eyes, he was gone.

I had to remember to breathe before collapsing on the ground.

Good heavens. That man was a sexy beast and he knew how to kiss.

After that, everything went really fast. I pulled Markov into Benji's room, where the Brit offered me one of his mischievous smiles (didn't he know eavesdropping was rude?) before making sure the Russian wouldn't get up before America.

We then made sure everything was secure to bring him down to the tenth level, where, as planned, Carter had brought Fozev, very unconscious, in a telecoms van. She went away and left Benji and I get back to our rooms. Our cover was supposed to hold until the next morning.

Benji made sure Ethan was secured on the roof and helped him down. He and Carter were supposed to have vanished out of a wild OPA on her society, while of course my "lover" and I couldn't disappear without a good reason.

The Brit promised me there weren't any cameras or microphones in my room, in case I wanted to "do something to thicken my cover".

And of course, he wasn't wrong at all.

Because of course, Brandt joined me for the night.

I can't be precise on what happened. I think we stared at each other for a while, before I finally assaulted him.

And dear I can't swear he can use his lips pretty well on any occasions.

…_..._

_This is it readers! Some informations before I leave you to review:_

_First, it really was supposed to be a one-shot, with this chapter only, but I decided to be an evil bitch and to add many fluffy chaps as prologues._

_Second, I can't get that stretching scene out of my mind. Jeremy really has one of the sexiest asses of the planet._

_Third, my Italian's a little rusted, so excuse me for any phrasal mistakes in that language too._

_Fourth, well, REVIEW! :)_


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